


Love Songs and Smelly Feet

by dhwty_writes



Series: Winter Prompt Challenge [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bickering, Established Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Prompt Challenge, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27900361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhwty_writes/pseuds/dhwty_writes
Summary: He chuckled and snaked his arms around Jaskier's waist. With a kiss to the back of his neck he asked: "When I? What is it bard, hm? At a loss for words?""Not at all, my dearest. It's just- What do you expect me to do, strutting around in front of me with your armour and your sword and slashing and hacking and- yeah, that. You know what I mean!"He nodded thoughtfully. "What else are you s'posed to do, y'mean, when you know fuck all of my trade."Jaskier and Geralt are awake at night and bicker.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Winter Prompt Challenge [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035792
Comments: 11
Kudos: 88





	Love Songs and Smelly Feet

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don't know what happened here. I had a plan with this, as vague as it might've been (namely Geraskier being awake since apparently we used to sleep in 2 4-hour periods before the industrial revolution?) Alas, these two idiots took this story two sentences in and ran away with it.  
> Written for Day 5 - Nighttime Snow.  
> Have fun!

"Are you done yet?" Geralt asked as he packed his freshly mended shirt away.

Jaskier yawned and dipped his quill into the inkwell again. "Almost, love." It was getting late, he knew, almost time for morning sleep. He just had to finish that one stanza...

If anyone asked him, this was promising to be his greatest ballad yet. Not that anyone asked him, of course, especially not Geralt. The witcher preferred to avoid the topic of... well, him, discussed in song; especially in songs such as this one, with love and adoration dripping from every word.

"Hmm," the witcher said, much closer than anticipated to peer over his shoulder. He sighed heavily. "Another one, Jaskier? Really?"

He rolled his eyes affectionately. "Yes, of course another one. Really, Geralt, how is a man supposed not to write you love poetry when you- when you-"

He chuckled and snaked his arms around Jaskier's waist. With a kiss to the back of his neck he asked: "When I? What is it bard, hm? At a loss for words?"

"Not at all, my dearest. It's just- What do you expect me to do, strutting around in front of me with your armour and your sword and slashing and hacking and- yeah, that. You know what I mean!"

He nodded thoughtfully. "What else are you s'posed to do, y'mean, when you know fuck all of my trade."

"Oh, bugger off, you big bloody bastard," Jaskier scoffed and shoved at him. "Keep talking and you can stay with Roach tonight."

Geralt crouched down next to the desk to make sure Jaskier caught the self-satisfied grin on his face. "Don't tempt me."

Jaskier smiled, too, and pushed his notebook away. He could finish the stanza on the morrow just as well. "And here I was," he drawled and turned to him, "thinking I was tempting you already."

He laughed quietly and pulled Jaskier's chair closer, placing his forearms on the poet's thighs. "Maybe you are."

"Well," he said slowly, raking his eyes over Geralt's body--god's he would never get sick of that sight, "considering how unbothered you are by my efforts, I'm certainly not trying hard enough."

"Let's not jump to any conclusions. You could certainly say I'm having a... _hard_ time, at the moment," the bastard had the audacity to say. He even wiggled his eyebrows.

Jaskier stared, dumbfounded. He couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head. "Gods great and small, have mercy on me. You are a terrible man, Geralt of Rivia, for making that horrid joke." He kissed him on the lips. "But I love you even so."

"I love you, too," he replied and kissed him, too. "I just wish you wouldn't sing it for all the world to hear.

He sighed dramatically and folded his hands behind his neck, leaning back. "And I wish you'd stop putting your stinky feet into my lap, and yet, here we are."

Geralt spluttered and fell over onto his butt. "These are not comparable, bard!"

"They are, they are!" he insisted. "I swear, you are what's most dear to me on this earth but they might be your most lethal weapon yet."

"I don't have stinky feet," he insisted. "You have stinky feet! Here try smelling them!" He grabbed Jaskier's left ankle in an attempt to push it up to his nose.

He laughed and thrashed, trying to reclaim his leg. "No, thank you, I can smell yours form up here, that's bad enough."

"Ha!" Geralt exclaimed triumphantly and jumped to his feet. "So, you admit yours smell bad!"

"I might be swayed to proclaim that smelling my feet might not be beneficial to the already horrendous fragrance that keeps tormenting my nose since I first got a whiff of your truly putrid, rank, revolting-- oh, great, you're not even listening."

The witcher he had been talking to, had wandered off to the window, apparently completely entranced with something Jaskier's own puny human eyes undoubtedly wouldn't be able to perceive. he got up with a sigh. They'd have to table that discussion, then.

"What is it, my love," he asked as he sauntered over to him, trying to worm his way under Geralt's arm. "What do your keen eyes see?"

"Look," Geralt answered, completely enthralled. "It's snowing."

"It is?" He squinted and inched closer to the window, trying to peer out into the dark. But it was just as Geralt said, thick white flakes drifting to the ground in the quiet night. "Oh. It is." He sighed contentedly, leaning back against his lover. "Oh, Geralt, I love this. The first snow of the year, and it's real snow already, not that wet shit we get normally. It's beautiful; come morning we will wake in another world."

"Not as beautiful as you are," Geralt whispered against the crown of his neck.

"You sap." He chuckled. "Be careful that I don't include that in any of my ballads: Geralt of Rivia, the secret romantic."

"Only for you." After a short pause he added: "Do you want to go outside? Catch the snowflakes?"

Brightly, he smiled up at him. "You remember I told you that?"

The witcher only shrugged and hid his face in Jaskier's shoulder. There was the hint of a blush on his cheeks. 

'How adorable,' he thought and gently stroked his hair. "No, my love," he mumbled, "I'd much rather go to bed and let the magic happen while we sleep."

"With my smelly feet?" he teased.

"Yeah," Jaskier answered and kissed him, "with your smelly feet."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, leave a comment and a kudo or come over to chat with me on [tumblr](https://dhwty-writes.tumblr.com/) if you liked it!


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